


If There is Something

by JSinister32



Series: A Testament to Hope [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Smoking, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, post breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27554437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: Hannibal's perspective from Hard to Get:Will and Hannibal had been broken up for six months. When confessions are made during a work function, can they find it within themselves to forgive?
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: A Testament to Hope [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014045
Comments: 32
Kudos: 160





	If There is Something

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is dedicated to el_gilliath for the POV switch suggestion. I hope you enjoy it, darling. 🤍

_Love recognizes no barriers._   
_It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls_   
_To arrive at its destination_   
_Full of hope._   
_-Maya Angelou_

* * *

Out of the many events Hannibal had to attend for work, the functions which took place at night and had alcohol flowing from the bar in copious amounts were his least favorite. It was tedious to watch his coworkers, the fine minds that occupied the upper floors of the Bureau’s Baltimore location, devolve into creatures of lowered inhibitions and lurid indiscretions as the night wore on. There were always the awkward conversations intended to avoid what had transpired over the weekend following such a party, small talk made while waiting for coffee from one of the many pots in the main break room on their floor, admissions and sly misdirections when someone didn’t want their own actions to become public knowledge. The entire process only happened a handful of times per year, but the handsome doctor found he was growing less and less fond of attending such events as the years wore on. 

It didn’t help matters that his own wonderful and tumultuous relationship with the chief profiler of Behavioral Sciences had begun with a drunken kiss at one such event, or that every time he attended a function without Will, the memories made him ache for days following. Every time he dressed in one of his fashionably dark suits, neat bow tie knotted at his throat, he couldn’t help but remember the moments they’d spend in the very bathroom he was currently standing, trying not to kiss as Hannibal straightened Will’s unruly attempts at tying his own tie. He’d always managed to make it lean to the left, much to the doctor’s delighted amusement, and the subsequent retying often made them late. It wasn’t often that Will would agree to the formal cut of the clothing he wore for such events, and watching him dress sent Hannibal’s pulse thrashing, blood rushing through his veins in a sparkling, heady wave. It took several tries to leave the house when all he wanted to do was undress his lover and climb back into bed with him.

 _Don_ _’t do this to yourself. Not tonight._

When their relationship had come to an end, the enjoyment of such events had abruptly vanished, all possible joy gone without the profiler at his side. Left in the wake of his departure was the tedium of making conversation with people that didn’t matter, sipping mediocre wine all while attempting to refrain from searching for a familiar head of dark curls to mark that Will was there, suffering through the same boredom that he himself had to wade through. Although they no longer did it together, there was something comforting about knowing that Will was in the room somewhere, sipping a glass of wine or, if the night had worn on some, a glass of bourbon, neat. It was the only thing that made the profiler want to smoke, and when Hannibal could taste the heady, masculine combination of whiskey and smoke on his tongue, it was difficult for the occasional cigarette Will chose to smoke to upset him. The touch of smoke on his pristine clothing was desperately arousing, and one of the many things about the profiler that could bring Hannibal to his knees, weak with need. Not that it had ever been difficult for them to get what they needed from eachother physically. Had that been the sum of their relationship, they’d have been been married by now.

If only they had been able to communicate verbally as well as they did sexually. Will was a difficult nut to crack and clammed up quicker than anyone Hannibal had ever known when he felt the least bit uncomfortable. If there was even the slightest threat to the safe, comfortable world he had created for himself, even if it was for his own good, Will shut it down. It didn’t help that, in the wake of his inability to communicate when they disagreed, Hannibal had been unable to give him the reassurance he needed to feel safe enough to open up. It was natural for the doctor to remain stoic in the face of emotional turmoil, but his actions had cost him the only man he had ever cared for. It had nearly been the end of him when Will delivered his things back to him, as if he’d never step a foot within the profiler’s home, let alone his heart, ever again. Hannibal had packed up Will’s things into a sterile looking white box, taking a moment to stare at each object and let the memories wash through him before placing it inside. In a moment of wild need, he had kept Will’s stick of deodorant, occasionally inhaling the scent when he felt weak. The combination of citrus and cedar still made his head spin.

Closing down the thoughts his mind so desperately tried to cling to, Hannibal straightened in the mirror, critically observing his appearance as he did so. The suit he wore tonight was new; a deep black, slim cut formal three piece made of the finest, most comfortable wool available. Feeling more than a little nostalgic, he went for traditional and paired it with a crisp white shirt, the material gleaming softly in the lights above the mirror. The bow tie was the same deep black as his suit and tied to perfection at his throat. The only spot of color in the ensemble was the pocket square he chose, the material the a shade of cobalt so dark it was almost black.

It was Will’s favorite, not that he’d admit to anyone that this was the reason he kept it and wore it to every function he attended. _At this point, I can simply chalk it up to habit. It doesn_ _’t need to be more complicated than that._

Hannibal sighed, shaking his head. He looked to himself much as he always did; pristinely handsome, if not a bit severe and mildly unapproachable. It was an image he’d worked very hard to cultivate, and one he clung to even harder after the despair of his departure from Will’s regular company and his heart. If anything, he found he’d become more stoic after they’d parted ways. He had discovered that showing no outward emotion tended to push away any prospective connections, which turned out to be a great coping mechanism, especially when he was a flaming wreck of his former self inside. Nobody need know that secret though; he had crafted his armor well. 

Taking a moment in the bathroom, Hannibal slicked back his hair, adding a little product to keep it in place. As he worked the comb through the shining silver and golden strands, he perused the memory of one particular dinner party, when Will had seen fit to kiss him in front of everyone they knew for the first time, solidifying any rumors that may have begun circulation within the Bureau. The resounding claps and catcalls had been worth the look in Will’s eyes when they parted, flushed and grinning sheepishly. It had also lead to a wonderful discovery; Will enjoyed running his hands through Hannibal’s hair when they kissed. That night, the profiler had wound his hands fondly through the back of Hannibal’s hair as their mouths brushed together. As a result, he had taken to wearing less product to keep it in place with the unconscious hope that Will would take it as an invitation to run his hands through it more often. If the profiler had noticed his efforts, he never mentioned it. He did, however, have a tendency to stroke the doctor’s hair in that exact location at every opportunity, a sensation that never failed to send Hannibal’s pulse into the stratosphere. Once his hair was taken care of, he agonized for a brief moment between the two colognes (Will) he had become the most fond of, eventually selecting the Valentino. _He always did seem to take a deeper liking to this one_ _… not that it will matter. We will not come into any further contact than we have since we went our separate ways. Will always sees fit to ensure it._

Hannibal’s phone gave a soft, musical chime to indicate a new message had been delivered. Frowning, he picked it up, unlocking it to find that Donovan, his date for the evening, was running a few minutes behind. Texting a brief acquiescence, the doctor made his way to his office, turning off the lights in the bedroom before closing the door. He padded softly down the hall, admitting himself into the quiet hush of the space that now brought him the most peace. After a moment’s hesitation, he moved to the sideboard at the far end of the room and poured himself a finger of Scotch, his fingers trembling slightly as he replaced the stopper on the heavy crystal decanter. Bringing the glass to his lips, Hannibal inhaled the rich scent of the liquor before taking a small, satisfying sip, something to steady his nerves. Taking the glass with him, he made his way to the fire, the blaze glowing gently as he took a seat before the flames. He continued to drink, letting the alcohol burn through him as he worked to close down the thoughts swirling through his mind.

Nights like tonight were the worst for him. Everywhere he looked, in every room of his home, Will’s presence was visible, as if the memories of their time together were overlaid on the spaces they’d shared, a fine silken cloth made of kisses and conversation, not to mention a deeply satisfying and surprisingly active sexual component that Hannibal had come to crave as much as the other aspects of their bond. Even when they fought, the worst nights had always ended up with them entwined around eachother, so deeply wrapped together that it was hard to tell where one man ended and the other began. Their nights without some shared intimacy had become so rare that Hannibal’s body still reacted to the faintest scent of his former lover as if he were 17 and not in his late 40s. _This is interminable. Thinking of such matters now won_ _’t aid my nerves tonight._ Tossing back the rest of the glass, Hannibal grimaced at the burn, silently lamenting his inability to scrub the relationship from his mind. As he stood to replace the glass, a knock to the front door sounded. _Good. Donovan is here, and I can cease this ridiculous foray into self pity and try to make something of the evening._

Hannibal made his way through the darkened house, pausing to remove his jacket from the hook beside the door before opening it. Donovan stood on his doorstep, looking pristinely handsome in the understated suit he had chosen to accompany Hannibal that evening. His wide, dark eyes flashed warmly as he shook the doctor’s hand over the threshold. _If only you could understand that my heart already belongs to another._

“Doctor Lecter, so good to see you again,” he said. Hannibal smiled without warmth, permitting the man into the house. They still had a few things to discuss before the night could begin.

“Hello Donovan. It’s good to see you as well. Thank you for joining me this evening.” Donovan glanced around the darkened house with interest, taking in what he could of his surroundings before his attention was brought back to its owner. Giving Hannibal an appreciative once over, he once again marveled at his good fortunes. He had been happily surprised to receive an invitation to join the man before him as his companion for the evening. Had it not been for his unfortunate attachment to the twitchy profiler, Donovan would have made a move months ago. _It doesn_ _’t matter,_ he thought. _Tonight is my night._

“It’s my pleasure, Doctor. It will be nice to spend some time with you, in your world. I’m very much looking forward to it.” Hannibal said nothing for a moment, simply staring at the man before him until Donovan became nervously self conscious. _Did I say something wrong? Is there something in my teeth? Why is he looking at me like that?_

 _“_ I appreciate tonight may be something of an opportunity for you,” Hannibal replied dismissively. “But I want to set some ground rules and dispel whatever assumptions you may have about what is to transpire.” Donovan’s heart sank. _So this isn_ _’t a romantic engagement after all. Pity._

“Am I about to be turned down gently?” he asked, his voice laced with humor. Hannibal’s eyes shone, the corner of his mouth lifting up into the smallest of smiles.

“You are, but do not let it be a detractor for the evening,” he replied cordially. “I very much wish to enjoy the evening with you, but only as friends. While this may not have been what you’d wish from the evening, I hope you can understand that my heart still belongs to another.” The other man’s heart contracted slightly, his own voyages into love coming to the forefront of his mind. _Oh, Hannibal. You silly, sad fool. You love him, but you didn_ _’t tell him._

“Quite understandable,” he remarked, something akin to deviousness flitting across his features. “I will find contentment in the fact that you decided to call me to join you tonight, and relegate myself to the other side of the emotional wall.” He paused, taking in Hannibal’s relief before continuing.

“Will your former paramour be present this evening?” Hannibal nodded, his eyes cool and unreadable. A small smile played on Donovan’s lips as he nodded. “Excellent. May I make the assumption that you’d very much like to have this man back in your life?” The doctor regarded him with caution before nodding a second time.

“I- I made a mistake with him,” he admitted. “I let him and myself believe that I could let him go. That is not the reality of the matter, and I’d very much like the opportunity to correct my mistake, if at all possible.” Something fragile in Donovan’s heart squeezed gently at the words. _Ahh, love. Beautiful and so dangerous to the unsuspecting._

“If that is the case, then let us be friendly, but not doting. Let him see that you brought someone in an attempt to forget him, not because you want me. When given the chance to speak with him, take it. Do not hesitate or second guess yourself, or you’ll be waiting until you’re dragged out to another of these events to make your move, and I’m not sure your heart could take it.” Hannibal watched the man with wide, uncomprehending eyes as Donovan gave him a final once over.

“You should be grateful that you were gifted with such exquisite taste,” he teased. “You always manage to look impeccable. I wouldn’t change a thing.” Hannibal’s eyes softened, shining with humor.

“Why are you being so collected about this, Donovan?” he asked. “I invited you tonight for my own selfish reasons, although well aware of your interest for some time now. Yet you stand before me, offering me the opportunity to use you as a prop. Why?” Donovan shrugged, moving past him to open the door.

“We all deserve second chances, Doctor Lecter,” he replied. “It is not my place to lay blame to your previous choices, and I accepted the possibility that I may be used as a prop before I accepted your invitation. You’ve been quite taken with Mr. Graham since you met him, and far be it from me to keep you from happiness. Plus,” he added with a devilish grin, “there is always the chance that I shall finally meet my ‘someone interesting’ amongst your colleagues tonight. I can also hold out hope.” Hannibal laughed, making his way through the door that Donovan held open.

“Hope is the pillar that keeps us all standing,” he remarked. “Without it, we would have devolved back into caves long before now. Shall we?”

***

The party was as tedious as Hannibal had expected it to be. Already in full swing by the time they arrived, alcohol was flowing as if it were water in the desert, and several people were already making less than discreet overtures at one another in hopes that they could join the ranks of their colleagues that had already committed such indiscretions, living on in the infamy of their stories. Hannibal inwardly cringed at the sight, even as they made their way to the bar.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Donovan murmured as they joined the queue.

“I have grown to despise these functions,” Hannibal replied, his eyes scanning the room. “They’re always exhausting and contribute nothing to my actual work. I do not know why I continue to attend them.” Donovan smiled, taking a step closer to where Hannibal inched forward in line.

“You come because you want to see him,” he said simply. “He has to be here, so you relegate yourself to the same fate in the hope of having the opportunity to speak with him, clear up the mess you two have made over what I’m assuming was a misunderstanding.” Hannibal glanced at the other man, surprise plain on his face.

“I do not recall you being this observant in our past interactions,” he replied. “But you are correct. I want the chance to reconnect, and these functions are neutral ground.” Donovan nodded.

“Have you spotted him yet?” he asked, glancing around the room. Hannibal let his eyes wander discreetly through the space, but Will was nowhere to be seen.

“I do not see him, no,” he replied, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. _Perhaps Jack wasn_ _’t able to force him into attending after all._ The line inched forward, bringing them closer to the front, where Hannibal would at least be able to find something to help settle his nerves.

They had just made it to the bartender and placed their order when a scent wafted through Hannibal’s senses, the fragrance so familiar, it made his insides ache. He turned and caught sight of a dark haired figure standing with his back facing the line. The vision of Will so close to him made Hannibal’s heart attempt to pound itself to pieces, blood rushing through his veins as adrenaline hit his system with the force of a speeding train. _He looks_ _… incredible,_ he thought with some dismay. _God on high, why does he have to look that good?_ Even from the back, Hannibal could distinguish the cut of a new suit, the distinctive widening of his shoulders as it tapered to his waist. His curls looked unforgivably touchable, and Hannibal had to steady himself from rushing across the room and pulling the other man into his arms. _Mine,_ his entire being sang. _You are mine._

The bartender handed the pair their drinks with a flourish. Hannibal downed a generous sip from his glass, grimacing at the mediocre white blend they had chosen to serve, sorely wishing he’d chosen something stronger. Donovan hovered at his side, following his gaze to where Will stood, back still to them. 

“So that’s him,” he remarked, taking a small sip from his glass. Hannibal nodded, unable to respond. _This is not how things are mean to be between us._ Donovan sighed, looping his arm through the doctor’s as he lead them away. “Well, we best lay the scene and observe his reactions, then. Let’s station ourselves somewhere in his line of sight, and see how he reacts to your presence when he notices you. We can plan it from there.” Hannibal only nodded, too lost in his reverie to contribute to the plan being laid before him. The other man guided him through the room, placing them close enough to be seen but at a sufficient distance to prevent conversations from being overheard. Releasing Hannibal’s arm, Donovan took a look around questioningly.

“Who do we engage in conversation to ensure he will notice you?” he asked, keeping his voice low. Hannibal glanced around the room, noting several of the higher ups already making their way over to where they stood. He sighed, bracing himself for the onslaught.

“We do not have to make the first move in that regard,” he said wearily. “The conversation is about to come to us.” Donovan glanced around, noting the approach of three men from three separate directions. 

“Excellent,” he whispered hastily. “Then here is the plan. Remain close to me, your arm around my waist to give the illusion that we came here as a couple. And stand…” he adjusted their places on the floor, maneuvering himself until Will was in his field of vision. “Okay perfect. Stay here so I can observe and report what Will does.” He reached up and straightened Hannibal’s tie, a bare adjustment to bring him back to himself. He met the other man’s worried eyes, heart straining. _It may not be me, but I can ensure it_ _’s someone._ “Okay, they’re almost here. Try to stay engaged in the conversation. I’ll tell you when to make your move.” Hannibal smiled gently, turning to greet the senior agent of the narcotics team and his wife.

***

It was almost an hour before it finally happened. Hannibal was already growing weary; small talk, even with the finest minds the Bureau had to offer, grew tiresome after a time. There were only so many times he could accept thank yous and requests for feedback at a party before he wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up with a glass of magnificent wine and a book. He could feel himself beginning to wear at the edges, his mind fuzzing away from the inane conversation to stray to where it truly wanted to be. _With the man I can_ _’t currently see._

“What is he doing now?” Hannibal asked under his breath, outwardly smiling to Director Michaelson as the conversation swelled around him. Donovan had been chatting with the group animatedly for the last fifteen minutes, yet Hannibal found the entire affair increasingly difficult to care about. He wanted to find Will, to speak with him. _I have to wait until the opportune moment._

“He’s definitely noticed you,” Donovan responded conspiratorially. “He’s gotten a drink- some kind of hard liquor-”

“Scotch,” said Hannibal wearily. “Probably a double, neat.” Donovan glanced over at him, impressed.

“That’s what it looks like, yes. He’s talking to Jack. It looks heated- oh. Okay, he’s headed to the balcony-” Donovan let go of his waist, gently pushing him in the direction of the doors. “Now’s your chance. I’ll keep these gentlemen occupied.” Hannibal nodded, his throat tight.

“Donovan-” The other man smiled, giving him a gentle shove.

“Consider yourself in my debt,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “I seem to have a pretty decent rapport with Agent Travers, anyway. Go, and good luck.” Hannibal inclined his head, offering Donovan a small and secret smile. Straightening, he turned towards those in their conversational circle, clearing his throat.

“Excuse me, gentlemen. I’m afraid there is someone I must speak with. Good evening.” Straightening his jacket, Hannibal turned, striding towards the doors to the terrace with some haste. The blood in his veins felt as if it had been carbonated, sparkling through his system to light his nerves on fire. The doors were almost in sight, the cold air emitting from the glass pushing evasively into the room, causing the guests to huddle away from the panes. Shivering, the doctor reached for the handle, only to find his way impeded by none other than Jack Crawford.

“Hey, Hannibal. Headed out for a smoke break?” Hannibal sighed inwardly, bracing himself for the oncoming lecture. _At least I am able to recognize an intervention when I see one._

“Good evening, Agent Crawford,” he replied, the impatience he felt entering his voice as he sidestepped where Jack stood. “I am indeed, amongst other things. If you’ll excuse-”

“Wait.” Hannibal stopped, glancing into Jack’s face. The look he saw there made him pause. Jack’s face was set with a protectiveness that was rare for him to exhibit for anyone except Bella. 

“Yes?” Hannibal asked, wary. Jack sighed, looking out into the room.

“Don’t go out there and wreck him to pieces again,” the agent said quietly. “He’s already drawn so tight, he snapped at the commissioner when he approached to congratulate him on the Three Rivers case. Please don’t make it worse for him.” Hannibal eyed the other man with a reluctant respect. _Well, well. In this instance at least, good ol_ _’ Jack wants what’s best for Will as well, but he doesn’t want to admit that what’s best for him is me._

“I have a great deal of respect for you, Jack,” Hannibal murmured, watching the other man’s eyes darken. A flash of anger ran through him like lightning, making him grit his teeth as he continued. “Please understand that I have no intention of going out onto the terrace to cause any kind of tension between Will and me.”

“Then what are your intentions exactly?” Jack retorted. Hannibal straightened, holding Jack’s defiant, angry gaze with his own, their resolve well matched. In a rare moment of vulnerable honesty, he told the agent the truth.

“There are things that need to be said between us, and tonight presents an opportunity for me to set things that have been left broken for too long to rights. I… we didn’t end as we should have. We shouldn’t have ended at all, and I let him walk away. I mean to correct that if I can.” Jack snorted, taking a sip from the tumbler he held loosely in one hand.

“You’re here with another man,” he said, derision clear in his voice. “How can you possibly be trying to make things right?” Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose, praying for patience. _God help us all. Now is the time you choose to behave as a father would, for a man that would crucify you for it if he knew._

“I brought Donovan to keep me company,” he confessed. “We are not, nor have we ever been romantically involved. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“Don’t hurt him again, Hannibal.” The doctor rounded on Jack, the words coming from him clipped and agitated at last.

“The only concern you have, or that you’ve always had for Will is his ability to do his job for you. Do not presume to tell me that I am the one who has been irresponsible with our profiler, Agent Crawford. I plan to heal the hurts I caused if he will let me. That’s more than I can say you’ve ever done for him. Good evening.”

Jack watched Hannibal cross the room, kept his eyes trained on his retreating back until he disappeared into the cold. The small smile that played on his lips was the only indicator that the conversation had been friendly, and had gone exactly as he’d planned. _It_ _’s about time. Take care of him, Hannibal. Like he needs._

_***_

The cold hit Hannibal like an icy fist, instantly chilling the breath in his lungs and making it momentarily difficult to breathe. Thankful for the forethought to have brought his overcoat, he stepped into the open air of the balcony, taking in the view as he moved forward. Will stood near the railing, a cigarette dangling from his mouth as he patted his pockets almost absentmindedly in search of his lighter. Hannibal stopped, absorbing the reality of what was transpiring. The moment he had orchestrated all evening was finally here, and now that it was, it was difficult not to be terrified. _Lord but I want you, darling. Please._

Will finally procured his lighter, digging it from within his suit pocket triumphantly. Raising it to the cigarette, he clicked the metal of the striker, holding it against the end. Nothing happened. Hannibal moved towards him slowly, watching as he frustratingly shook it, then clicked the lighter a second, then a third time with no results. Will glanced around, and seeing that nobody had joined him, tried the lighter a final time. Taking a deep breath to quell his nerves, Hannibal stepped up to join him, removing his own lighter from his coat pocket with shaking fingers. _Please. Please talk to me._

“You always were terrible at remembering to fill your lighter fluid,” he said softly, watching Will start slightly before turning towards him. Clicking the lighter, it sparked instantly, and he held it out, cupping his other hand around the tiny flame to ensure it didn’t blow out. He held it steady, his heart in his throat as he watched surprise, then despairing disbelief flit across the profiler’s handsome features. For a moment, their eyes met, and Hannibal thought he’d turn and leave without speaking a word, but after a moment, Will leaned into the flame, lighting his cigarette. He took a deep drag, closing his eyes as Hannibal clicked the lighter shut. His fingers were still trembling slightly, his heart working to pound it’s way out of his chest as he stood next to the man he loved, waiting for him to say something.

Will had always looked good smoking. It relaxed his features, brought to mind the peace the action always followed. They had shared many cigarettes after rounds of exhaustive sex, cuddled up in a blanket, sitting in the window seat in Hannibal’s bedroom watching the rain or snow come down from the skies. They had seen all four seasons pass by from that spot, Hannibal realized with a lurch. There was nothing more he wanted to return to than Will in his arms, watching the world go by from the safety of their sanctuary. _Please._

“You know I don’t smoke often enough to try and remember every nuance that comes along with it,” Will retorted, blowing out another plume of smoke. Hannibal nodded, fishing in his pockets for his own cigarettes. Finding his case, he placed one between his lips and lit it, breathing in deeply before replacing his case and lighter. He leaned into the railing beside Will, taking another long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before breathing it out into the frigid night air. Will shivered, and Hannibal noticed for the first time that he was outside without his coat. _He has to be cold, but it_ _’s currently none of my business. I need to keep the conversation light. Ease him into speaking with me again._

“It’s a bad habit to keep,” he agreed. “Best left for when absolutely needed.”

“Which is why I forgot to check my lighter for fluid,” Will snapped as he took in another lungful of smoke. A tense silence fell between them, one neither man seemed keen to fill. Hannibal continued to smoke, the nicotine chasing off the worst of the bite in the air. He didn’t feel an immediate need to speak, instead enjoying the moment they shared, the fragile contact after avoiding one another for so long. _It feels so good to just_ _… see you._

“Where’s your date?” Will asked after a moment. Hannibal glanced over; Will looked mortified, as if he didn’t understand why he couldn’t keep his mouth closed. Hannibal’s heart squeezed painfully, reaching out towards the man beside him. _You think I want to be here with someone else. Oh, darling. If you only knew._

“Donovan is inside somewhere, likely deep in discussion with the commissioner. They were arguing over chamber music,” he added wryly. “I grew bored of their company, and needed some air. He will very likely be exactly where I left him when I return.” 

“Oh.” The word was so small, Hannibal had to look over to ensure that Will had spoken at all. He watched as the profiler’s features fell, pain lancing through his chest at the sight. _If I could have come with you, my darling, I would have. If I thought you_ _’d say yes, talk to me, I would move stars for you._

“Good to see you’re doing so well,” Will said, pain clear in his voice. “It seems you have someone new on your arm every time the Bureau throws one of these.” Before he could stop himself, Hannibal heard himself speaking the truth, words he never thought he’d say aloud.

“Perhaps it’s because I can’t have what I want,” he responded, his voice low in his throat. Will’s eyes met his own maroon gaze, their cerulean depths unreadable. _I want you, darling. I want all of you._

“I see,” Will said, his voice still small and hurt. Hannibal looked away, and for many moments, they stood side by side, smoking. Hannibal didn’t know what to say; he only knew he didn’t want these to be the last words between them. It was Will who broke their silence, straightening his back as he stubbed out his cigarette.

“Well, I hope you find whatever you’re looking for,” the profiler mumbled, the very air about him defeated. “I have had enough of tonight, so I’m going to head off. Thanks for the light.” Will moved past him, intending on making his way back into the warmth of the party. _No. No, no. You cannot leave. Not without hearing me out first._ Without thinking, Hannibal reached out and wrapped his fingers around his ex lover’s wrist, drawing him back towards the railing.

“Don’t you want to know what I want, Will?” he asked desperately. He loosened his fingers, letting them circle around Will’s pulse point, caressing. Will’s breath hitched audibly in his chest, his pupils blowing wide.

“What-” Hannibal continued desperately over the question, breathlessly cutting off any further words from forming.

“It’s difficult because I had who I wanted, once upon a time,” he confessed, his voice tightening in his chest as his heart began to thrash. _Please. Please hear me, darling._ “He and I were… good to one another. We were good together. We got foolish and complacent, and he escaped me. I want him back.” The confession rang though the open space, surrounding them in its embrace. Will stared for a moment, disbelief and mistrust etched deep into his features. He snorted, pulling at his wrist before Hannibal reluctantly relinquished it.

“You had who you wanted, did you?” he accused. Hannibal’s eyes widened; anger was a new emotion, and the outburst startled him to silence. It was… affecting in ways it had no right being. The doctor could feel the first pulse of arousal course through his body, tightening his skin as he fought to keep himself under control. He tried to concentrate on what Will was saying. 

“If that were true, you’d have made it apparent six months ago, not at a party where you think I have to be polite. How long have we been working together? How many opportunities did you have to tell me that you missed me, that you wanted to try again?” Hannibal’s heart squeezed in his chest.

“Would you have listened?” he asked quietly, watching Will’s face soften at the question. “Had I come to you with open arms, would you have heard me out, or would you retreat inward like you always have when things got difficult between us? I have tried to let you go about your life, stayed out of your way so you can continue to fool yourself into believing that we don’t belong to one another. Even now, you can’t admit to yourself how much you miss me.” Unable to stop himself, Hannibal advanced, caging Will in his arms without actually touching him, resting his hands on either side of the railing so that the profiler would have to push if he wanted free. He could feel him try to fight the need to lean back into his warmth. _There. Yes. Trust me a little, my love. Please._

Leaning forward, Hannibal let his breath ghost over the profiler’s skin, delighting in the shudder that coursed its way through Will’s body. He traced the shell of the profiler’s ear, letting his lips almost rest against skin as he continued.

“Don’t think for a moment that I don’t notice your efforts,” he breathed against Will’s ear, relishing in the goosebumps his breath raised. “I saw you immediately tonight, as soon as we arrived. I caught the scent of your aftershave as I passed you to collect a drink. You cannot tell me that you were not thinking of me as you got ready for this event.” Reaching in front of the man in his arms, he gently unlaced the bow tie, his heart pounding fondly as he realized it was hanging slightly crooked. He eased the silk apart, leaving it to lay against the front of Will’s shirt as he undid a single button at the top of the profiler’s throat, baring a triangle of delectable skin to the frigid air. Will shivered, the action only partly due to the cold. Hannibal pulled the other man into his arms, his entire body sighing as they came flush. _Yes. Where you belong._

“When are you going to cease this game between us?” he whispered, relishing in the heat of Will’s skin against his own. The cold of the evening faded at the edges; all that existed was the man in his arms, the man he so desperately wanted, needed. “I want you. I miss you. Please.” Without waiting for a response, he brushed his lips against the long column of Will’s neck, delighting in the low, desperate sounds issuing unconsciously from Will’s throat. He tasted the spicy flavor of Will’s aftershave on his tongue, searching for the clean, salty taste of the profiler’s skin beneath. _Please, darling. There you are. Give in. Come back to me._ Will seemed to melt in his grasp, giving himself over to the sensations of Hannibal’s mouth dancing lightly along his skin. 

When the doctor reached his pulse point, Will’s whole body seemed to groan, straining against him as he laved at the profiler’s neck, pulling the tight noises of pleasure from his throat. Weak, and without a thought, Will spun carefully in Hannibal’s arms, disengaging his mouth from the delicious curve of Will’s neck. Hannibal hesitated, unsure, until warm arms wound their way around his shoulders, bringing them close. Will’s mouth descended on his own, and the world went quiet. There was nothing but the gentle press of skin, the slight tug of their lips as they moved against eachother. Everything else ceased to exist, falling away in the wake of the fragile connection forged between them. 

A quiet noise of delight escaped Hannibal’s throat as he pulled the profiler closer, wrapping him in his arms as he deepened their kiss. The gentle connection was everything it needed to be; a fragile reacquaintance that made Hannibal’s heart thrash wildly in his chest. He wanted more, wanted to taste, consume and claim the man in his arms. He eased the tip of his tongue out and teased the seam of Will’s lips, begging entrance. The moment Will opened his mouth, Hannibal licked his way inside the hot depths, exploring the contours as if he’d never get another chance. Will’s tongue shyly joined his own, the kiss melting away into long moments of delicious exploration, their passion burning like a bright star between them. Will’s careful fingers wound into the back of his hair, petting gently as Hannibal groaned, instantly wanting more. He had always been weak when it came to Will’s hands in his hair; their time apart had not lessened its effect. 

For long moments they kissed, letting the contact ebb and flow naturally until Hannibal’s cock was aching, begging for friction. He let his fingers wander down between them, his entire body pulsing with need as his hand met an answering hardness, hot and pulsing against his palm. His heart thrashing, Hannibal pressed gently against Will’s length, earning a full body shudder and a quiet moan against his mouth. _Yes. Yes, darling. Give-_ Will stepped back suddenly, resting their foreheads together for a moment before disengaging their contact as if burned.

“I can’t let you do this, Hannibal.” The profiler said, his voice hoarse. The words took a moment for his aroused brain to comprehend. When he realized what Will had said, his blood cooled in his veins.

“Can’t do… what, exactly?” he demanded. “Let me love you?” Will looked as if he’d been slapped. Love. The only word neither had ever professed, not aloud, but it was there, pulsing like a heartbeat between them. _It was always love._

“Let you be unfaithful. You’re here with another man. I can’t let you become that person, no matter how badly I want you.” _Will. Noble, sweet, clueless Will. If you only knew what Donovan had been doing all night._ He raked a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what to say. He didn’t want the night to end here, on this balcony at another party. He wanted to take Will home, strip that delightful suit from his body, let it fall to the floor in a wild disarray. He wanted it to remain there as he claimed the body it wrapped around. He wanted to make love, to listen to the sounds so clearly etched into his memories from the nights they had shared within one another. He wanted it so badly it was hard to think. _Reply. He_ _’s waiting for you to respond._

“You’ve always been so noble,” Hannibal said, frustration lacing through his words. “It has always lead to your downfall. Donovan is my date, not my lover,” he clarified. “I needed someone to accompany me; he was free tonight. We have only ever been friends.” He watched as Will’s opened with blessed relief. Unable to stop himself, Hannibal reached forward and ran the pad of his thumb over the profiler’s lower lip. _Please._ “I very much want to continue what we began here tonight, Will. I can’t-” the words stuck in Hannibal’s throat, burning as he tried to find a way to express them. Will watched him, his eyes, brimming with disbelief… and hope.

“Can’t…what?” he whispered. Hannibal took a breath, let the truth wash between them at last.

“I can’t lose you. Not again.” He suddenly found himself hauled into Will’s arms, clutched as if he were the last anchor on earth. His arms wrapped around Will’s back, their bodies brought flush in the embrace. They breathed together for a moment, letting their pulses settle as they took in the gravity of the monumental truth between them. _It will always be you._ Will drew back, meeting his eyes with an intensity that sent Hannibal’s pulse thrashing into the stratosphere. _Please, darling. Please keep looking at me like that. Now and always._

“If this is really what you want… you know where I live. I was planning to head home after my cigarette, and now I’ve had that… and a taste of what I want for the rest of the weekend.” Will leaned forward, placing a small kiss on Hannibal’s cheek before stepping back, leaving the stunned doctor where he stood. “You still have a key, don’t you?” Hannibal thought a moment before nodding, his pulse hammering away in his chest. The corner of Will’s mouth lifted in a small smile. It was the most beautiful thing Hannibal had ever seen.

“Then I guess I’ll see you at home,” the profiler said. Hannibal nodded, his eyes filling with a careful, fragile hope. He cleared his throat before responding.

“At home then, dar-” he caught himself just in time, “Will.” Will nodded before turning to make his way to the doors. He looked back one more time before sliding them open, admitting himself into the warmth. Hannibal let him go, removing a second cigarette to give him a little time to make his way home. He knew instinctively that Will would want a few minutes to settle before he arrived. _Just enough time for a cigarette._

As he smoked, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Scrolling to Donovan’s number, he typed a quick message before replacing the phone. The notification chimed, and he read the message, smiling to himself as he typed back a quick reply. Pocketing the phone a second time, the doctor admitted himself to the ballroom, making his way discreetly through the throng to the lobby and back out into the cold, where his car was waiting to take him where he really belonged.

[09:56PM] _Hello Donovan. It worked, and I am going home. To his arms. Thank you for accompanying me tonight. I owe you. -HL_

[10:01PM] **Hi Hannibal, no problem. I have a ride home. Dx**

[10:04PM] _We can discuss details later. Be safe. -HL_

Hannibal drove towards his future, hope singing through his chest, filling him with life and light. As he drove, he sent out a warm, silent thought to whomever might be listening, letting them know he was sure of his path moving forward. _If there is something between us, it will be beautiful and strong, a love to last the ages. One night at a time, though. It will come with time. For now_ _… my darling waits._

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my darlings. I've chosen to make this story into parts rather than chapters, as chapters didn't feel right when using the same story with different perspectives. I'm thinking of adding a final part to it- what happens when they actually meet back at Will's. Please let me know if you'd enjoy that part of the story as well.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this part as much as I enjoyed writing it for you guys.
> 
> Hearts and Body Parts,  
> 🤍JM


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